


About Last Night...

by MissMoochy



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man/Deadpool - Joe Kelly (Comics)
Genre: Aged-Up Peter Parker, Implied/Referenced Sex, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Misunderstandings, POV Peter Parker, Secret Identity, Talking, Wade Wilson Needs A Hug, Wade Wilson is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25558693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMoochy/pseuds/MissMoochy
Summary: Prompt from the Spideypool discord:Peter hooks up with a guy named Wade. While the sex is great, he is a little put off by how the guy looks and if he actually wants that second date. Can't keep the lights off in a restaurant, after all. So Spidey asks his good pal Deadpool, whose face he's never even seen a sliver of, what he should do.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 33
Kudos: 289
Collections: Isn't it Bromantic?





	About Last Night...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TimidTurnip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimidTurnip/gifts).



The night was as brisk as a cold shower. How Peter loved nights like this. He’d stopped a mugger earlier and was still running on adrenaline, feeling the warm glow in his chest that he always got when he helped somebody. The only thing that could make his night better was sitting on a rooftop, silhouetted against the moon. Deadpool. They’d teamed up a few times now, patrolling together and foiling nefarious schemes. Ha, that made them sound like a comic book duo. But Deadpool was cool, a funny, laid-back guy who always had Peter’s back. Sure, he was a little bit rough around the edges, but he’d been through hell and didn’t have many good influences in his life. Peter liked him, he saw potential in him. Deadpool was scarily skilled, with some direction and a moral compass, he could be extraordinary. The nicest thing about Deadpool was that he respected Peter. Peter liked Mr. Stark and the other Avengers but they often talked to him like he was much younger. He was twenty-two, for goodness sake! But Deadpool would trust Peter’s judgement. He could be surprisingly deferential to Peter, which was kind of an ego boost if Peter was honest. And they could laugh and joke over memes and movie references. Deadpool never made Peter feel like he was an imposition or a dumb kid.

Peter scaled the wall and threw himself over the ledge, adding a flip, for the sole purpose of making Deadpool whistle admiringly. Okay, Peter liked to show-off sometimes.

* * *

“Hey, ‘Pool!”

“Spidey! Get over here!” Deadpool waved eagerly and Peter smiled to himself. Deadpool was sitting with his legs hanging over the side of the ledge. He must have been eating because he was holding a greasy wrapper in one gloved hand. Peter dropped down beside him, feeling a tiny sting of disappointment. If he’d got here a few minutes before, he might have caught a glimpse of his friend’s face. Peter had rolled up his mask to just under his nose in the past when hanging out with him, but Deadpool wouldn’t even do that. They’d been friends for about a year now, and he still hadn’t seen Deadpool’s hands or anything that wasn’t covered by red leather and kevlar.

“How are you doing, Spi-Spi? I didn’t see you out last night. Did you have plans?” Deadpool said and fake-gasped. “Did you have a _hot date?_ "

Peter laughed but actually, Deadpool was right. “I, um, I actually hooked up with this guy last night.”

Since Peter had known Deadpool, he’d known that the guy was batting for all sides. Deadpool could barely go five minutes without flirting with Peter, for example. It had taken a little longer for Peter to come out to him but Deadpool was the second person he’d told. May was the first. She’d been as kind and supportive as he’d hoped she’d be, but he’d still been nervous. Sitting across from her in her favourite cafe, his foot jiggling under the table, his hands plucking at a napkin, tearing ribbons off it. But it had been worth it because she’d put her hand on his arm and smiled at him and told him that she loved him.

Telling ‘Pool had been less nerve-wracking and Peter had felt stronger. He’d been bolstered up by May’s love and acceptance and he’d mentioned it quite casually, in a conversation with the merc. DP had been great about it, whooping and pulling Peter into a hug, swinging him around. He’d been overjoyed to ‘get Spidey on the same team’ and had joked about them attending double dates.

“Oh, awesome! How was it?” Deadpool, despite his constant attempts at flirting with Peter, sounded genuinely pleased for him.

His mind was swirling with visions of hard muscle and chocolate-brown eyes, as he reflected. “It was...pretty great, actually.”

“Noice! Sounds like we’re both knocking it outta the park! I also got lucky last night. I was slammin’ this little twink. Only made him ‘O’ like a zillion times.” Deadpool told him, making some rather crude gestures with his hands. Peter wasn’t surprised, he imagined Deadpool was pulling tail left and right. The red jumpsuit didn’t hide much, the fabric bent to every line of muscle. And he was tall, enviably so. He must see a lot of action. Peter assumed that Deadpool had a high sex drive. Not that he ever thought about his friend having sex, that would -- that would be weird.

“Oh, good one, man!” Peter said and offered a fist-bump. “I bet you get all the guys. And girls. And aliens.”

“You know it! What can I say, they come for the jokes and they stay for the enormous schlong.”

“Oh, you’re packing heat, are you?”

The merc tapped the gun in his thigh holster. “Always, babe. I was blessed with a dick bigger than Thor’s hammer. I have to roll it up like a garden hose when I’m done.”

“Hey, me too. Mine’s so long I have to take one end and the other dude takes the other and we walk up to each other, like folding up a sheet.” He could never get tired of their banter. 

Deadpool hooted a happy laugh. “Oh, sure, sure! You think you’ll see your guy again?”

“I don’t know, _maybe._ Do you think you’ll see yours?”

“ _Absolument_ , I’d be crazy to pass up a fine piece of ass like that. You don’t sound sure about yours though? Was he a douche? The douchey guys are always the hottest, I don’t like it, but them’s the rules.”

“No, he was...he was fine on paper. He was…” Peter said and sighed. “ _Amazing._ Funny, smart, generous in bed. You know? And his muscles, oh my _God._ But he--”

Deadpool sucked his teeth like Hannibal Lector. “Lemme guess. He couldn’t get it up?”

“What? _No._ ”

“Dad bod?”

“No. Although that wouldn’t bother me.”

“Bald spot?”

“No.”

“Hipster beard?”

“No way! He was, ugh, I feel like such a dick for saying this, but his face. His face was so...bad.” He said the worst word softly, instantly wishing he could take it back. Bad. Peter had been bullied in school, he’d never thought he could be the sort of person who would judge a person on their appearance.

 _“Snaggletooth_ _,”_ Deadpool said and nodded in understanding.

“No, his teeth were perfect. Which sort of made it worse. He must have been gorgeous before the accident.”

“Accident?” Deadpool cocked his head to the side.

Peter let out a sigh. “He got in an accident a while back. He was kind of vague about it, so I tried to ignore it. I don’t want to pry. And he was so nice and I could tell he was trying to put me at ease but that _face._ I like him a lot, but I honestly don’t know if I could date him. It was okay in bed because we had the lights off. But it wasn’t just his face, his whole body is messed up. When he, um, put it in me, his dick felt a ribbed condom. His skin was so rough.”

Deadpool laughed at that, loud and obnoxious and it sounded a shade hysterical but Peter didn’t dwell on it. DP was an erratic guy at the best of times. “Yeah, Spidey, you got the right idea. The only thing worse than fucking a guy whose got a jacked-up face is fucking a guy whose got a jacked-up face _and_ body. You’re not alone in feeling like that, Webs, most people do.”

“I just...I wish I could look past it because I really liked him. But I’m thinking, what would our dates be like? Sitting in a restaurant? Getting sympathetic looks from the server? He probably gets all kinds of mean words and stares from people in the street. I feel bad for him, but how could I date somebody like that? If I took a walk with him or something, people would stare at both of us. I’ve had enough time hating myself and feeling like a freak because of my powers. I just want to be normal. I want to blend into the crowd. Is that -- am I a bad person?”

Deadpool made a faint sound and, to Peter’s surprise, flung his arm around his shoulders. His arm was heavy, the heat bleeding through the fabric of Peter’s suit.

“No, sweetheart, you’re not a bad person. You sound like you dig this guy, and you’ve tried looking past his...issues but it’s not something you can deal with. And that’s okay. It sucks that this poor dude lost the genetics lottery and it sucks that our dumb monkey brains make us see somebody who looks different to us and it tells us to stay away from ‘em. And it majorly sucks that a guy can walk down the street and get harassed just ‘cause his face is a little uggo. But none of that is your fault, Webs. You’re a good guy. And I’m sure that this dude appreciated you being so nice to him.”

“Yeah, I guess. Thanks, ‘Pool. I hate it but I don’t think I can change how I feel. I feel bad for letting Wade down but--”

Deadpool’s arm slipped off Peter’s shoulder. Instantly, his body felt cooler without the warm, solid weight of it. “What did you say?”

“Hmm? Oh, Wade. The guy’s name is Wade.”

“Oh, okay,” Deadpool said and his voice sounded oddly strained. “Uh, w-where did you say you met this guy?”

“Grindr. When he first messaged me a couple of days ago, he didn’t have a picture. But I was bored, so I talked to him. We sent a few memes to each other and he asked if I wanted to meet. I thought it was going to be a one-and-done deal. I figured that if we met in a public place, it would be okay. We met up at a cafe, talked for a bit, I was shocked by his face but I was being polite and he was as friendly in person as he was on the app. So, I thought: I can do this. We went back to his apartment later and had sex. He fell asleep and I left before he woke up.”

“O...kay. Alrighty, that sounds...” Deadpool crumpled up his wrapper in his fist and flung it over the side. Peter tutted. “So, his face was a real horror show, huh?”

“I mean, not, ugh, it wasn’t that bad. His skin was, like, really pink and scarred. He had pretty eyes though --”

Deadpool made a strange sound that, on any other person, would be described as a whimper.

“ --but he didn’t have any eyebrows, which weirded me out, at first. I got more used to looking at his face as the night went on. And he had a great smile. I’d love to have teeth as straight as his.”

“But then you’d have to have a gross, fucked-up face,” Deadpool spat. Peter didn’t think that was very fair of him. It’s not like Wade could help it.

“It wasn’t _fucked-up._ Okay, it wasn’t great, I mean, he’s not going to model for _Abercrombie_ any time soon, but--”

“What was he like in bed?” Deadpool demanded.

Peter thought back to that night. The heat of their bodies, the bulk of Wade’s weight on his own leaner build. Feeling caged in by two huge biceps, looking up into dark eyes, running his hands over Wade’s pecs. “Incredible.”

Deadpool sighed. “You know, Spidey, maybe you could hook up with him again, just to see if the face thing is a dealbreaker.”

“I couldn’t use him like that,” 

“I don’t think he’d mind,” Deadpool said quietly.“It sounds like not many people want him for his body.”

“What? Do you think he’s, like, touch-starved?” It had seemed that way, last night. Wade touched him everywhere, splaying his hands on Peter’s chest and stomach, tangling his fingers in Peter’s hair, kissing him anywhere he could reach. And he’d been so adoring, raving about Peter’s skin, his hips, his legs. Wade was good for an ego boost.

“I think he could be,” Deadpool said. Peter absorbed this. Deadpool, for all his joking and misdirection, could be perceptive sometimes.

“I don’t know. I’ll think about it. I don’t want to hurt him. Oh, hey, you didn’t say much about your hookup last night. What was he like?”

Deadpool waved a hand dismissively. It was uncharacteristically abrupt. “It’s -- it doesn’t matter. I don’t think he wants to see me again.”

“What? How could he not want to see you?” Peter said indignantly. “You’re Deadpool. You’re this badass mutant who’s built like a linebacker. You must have hordes of guys after you.”

“Oh, um, yeah, I, I get more ass than a toilet seat. Haha. Look, I gotta go, Spidey. Lot of stuff to do tonight. I’ll see you, ‘kay?” Deadpool’s voice was thick; Peter wondered if he was coming down with a cold. Could Deadpool even get colds? Or would his super immune system instantly beat down any pathogen before it had a chance to harm him?

“Okay, goodnight, ‘Pool,” Peter said. Deadpool jumped off his perch and took a running jump to the next rooftop. Peter watched the familiar red figure get smaller as it disappeared into the horizon. Then he was gone.


End file.
